


Betrayed

by YewFandoms



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, F/M, Fantasy, Happy Ending, Monsters, Pregnancy, Violence, Witcher - Freeform, Witches, cirri, jaskier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:15:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25611175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YewFandoms/pseuds/YewFandoms
Summary: Requested story! Y/N was traveling with geralt and the bard a few months. She and Geralt slept together and everything - he was her first - and she loved him but never confessed. When Yennefer arrived, Geralt fell into his charms forgetting yn. One day she found out she was pregnant, when she told Geralt he went crazy and said that she had betrayed him because Witcher’s have no children, and sent her away - and Yennefer just putting wood on the fire.
Relationships: Geralt of Rivia - Relationship, Geralt x reader, The Witcher x reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 173





	1. Chapter 1

Had someone told you months ago that you would be travelling the lands with a Witcher and his bard, you could have sworn they were dreaming. It all happened so quick, Geralt had injured himself, and Jaskier had brought him to your small town for assistance. However, no one would open their doors for the pair, that is until you stepped in.   
Your home became a small infirmary for the monster killer, and a home for his musical companion.

After awhile, the more you cared for Geralt, the more your love for him grew. Confusion was an understatement, for you had never been with someone before. Love was a foreign feeling, no man or woman had ever made you feel such a way. Geralt had no idea, naturally, but Jaskier had long sensed your hidden feelings for the Witcher.  
It was the bards idea to have you tag along with the pair on their endeavours, hoping the close proximity would push Geralt to recognising his own feelings towards you. You didn’t hesitate with agreeing, the idea of working alongside Geralt and getting to travel was more than exciting. It took some persuading, but Jaskier and his silver tongue had Geralt agreeing in no time. Agreeing however, with the promise that you didn’t bring others into the group, or fool around with random people whilst Geralt tried to work.

“The last thing I need is a damsel in distress getting in the way.”   
Easily done, considering your situation. Jaskier however seemed to forget the memo.   
It had been months, and you grew closer with Geralt with every wound you had to stitch. He was prone to injuries, and he secretly thanked the Gods there was someone else to stitch him up. 

‘Jaskier is good with a lute, but there’s not much else.’ Geralt would leave you giggling like a child with every joke. The two of you had been forced to share a room whilst Jaskier warmed some other woman’s bed, and it pained you to hide your feelings even as they continued to soar through the sky.

You weren’t sure what came over you that night, but while Geralt was talking about at some ‘kikimora’, you kissed him. It surprised him, of course, you even more, but he returned the kiss nonetheless. That night Geralt took you to bed, and much to your shock, was more gentle and caring than you had ever seen him.   
That night blossomed into a bit of a routine. The two of you would sneak away whilst Jaskier slept to fool around, and you loved it, you loved him. 

Did he love you though?  
You knew he didn’t, maybe some attraction but love? You had become well acquainted with the emotions of a Witcher, and love wasn’t something that was a priority.   
Or that’s what you thought. 

One moment Geralt is attempting to find a Djinn, the next both the Witcher and yourself were carrying a dying Jaskier to a sorceress in a large home. A giant orgy was certainly not something you thought you’d stumble into, and you definitely didn’t imagine the sorceress to be a beautiful woman. Geralt clearly didn’t either, and you didn’t try to hide the frown when you noticed his eyes change ever so slightly when he laid his eyes on her. 

Those few days were a blur. Geralt ended up in prison but broke out, Jaskier was being saved by Yennefer, and you had been left in the hands of an elf for safety. When daylight broke, Geralt came barging through the estate at the same time that Jaskier emerged from Yennefer’s ‘home’. You thought you would all be taking your leave, but Geralt entered the abode, ignoring Jaskier as he talked about being short of a marble. 

So the three of you stood outside, listening to the dark magic that warped through the air above. The elf to your left gulped, and Jaskier held your hand as the building began to shake. You couldn’t help the cry that escaped your chest as the roof of the building collapsed, seeming to have crushed Geralt (and Yennefer) inside. Jaskier echoed your cry, bringing you into a tight hug as you sobbed into his chest.   
The elf began muttering to himself in disbelief, walking around the grounds as he weeped. His wailing soon stopped, and he choked on his own spit as he peered into a window on the first floor. Jaskier noticed this, pulling away from you as he began following after the man. Your chest tightened as he walked away, and he too chocked on his own spit at the site before him, stumbling over his words as he pointed inside. 

Jaskier didn’t hear you as you joined his side, and you felt your heart break for a second time as you looked inside. Geralt was alive, that much was obvious, and he was having a rather good time celebrating such with Yennefer. The bard tried grabbing your hand, but you were already walking back to where Roach had been tied. 

“(Y/N)! I’m sure this is just one of her spells! Geralt wouldn’t just do that!” Jaskier attempted to reason with you, but you shook your head, climbing onto Roach.

“He would Jaskier, because he did it with me.” A broken heart was something inevitable, but it didn’t make the pain hurt any less. 

“You need to talk to him, (Y/N) please just talk to him.” He pleaded, and you ignored him. You rode off, taking Roach back to where your last campsite was. 

Deep down you were more than relieved that Geralt was alive, but seeing him like that had your stomach churning. Did you have a right to feel this way? He wasn’t yours to begin with, you were both free people, but you had never loved someone before - and if this was love, you didn’t want it anymore.   
It took awhile, but Geralt seemed to have gotten over his small infatuation with the mage, and after some apologising on his behalf and much to your confusion, you forgave him. Time went quickly, and after every scare with Geralt and his job, you eventually opened up to him about your feelings. The Witcher admitted that love was a foreign concept to his kind, but he would try. 

He was yours, as you were his.   
Fate had a funny way of working.  
So when you found out you were pregnant, your world turned upside down once again. This wasn’t possible, Witcher’s were infertile. But yet, you were late with your bleeding, and throwing up became a routine for you every morning and with every meal. Your suspicions were confirmed one night when you snuck away from your companions to seek a healer. 

You were pregnant.   
You were carrying a Witcher’s child.

Fucked was an understatement. How would you explain this? You weren’t even sure how it happened, but Geralt had a right to know. Surely he of all people would know how such a thing could happen. Yennefer had joined the group, much to your dismay.   
You couldn’t stop shaking as you sat beside Jaskier, the two of you waiting for Geralt’s return from hunting. Yennefer lay in her tent asleep, so you relished in the small window of opportunity to talk to your best friend. 

“Gods (Y/N), you look horrible.” Jaskier quips, putting an arm around your shoulders for warmth. 

You don’t reply, instead choosing to stare blankly into the fire. 

“(Y/N)?” Your friend frowns, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared down at you. Again you stay quiet, shivering as the wind picks upon around you both.

“What’s gotten into you?” Jaskier pulls you closer to him.

“A baby.” You mutter, not taking your eyes away from the flames.

“Sorry come again?” Your friend turns you to look at him. “Did you say a baby?”

You nod, and his eyes widen as his mouth opens wide in shock. 

“(Y/N)! A baby! You’re pregnant? But how? When? Where did you find the time to jump on some random?” You attempt to interrupt him, but he continues. “I’m an uncle! Ha Ha! Oh wow what a turn of events this has been, I’m sure Yennefer is going to be hap-.” 

You clasp your hand over his mouth. “It’s Geralt’s.”

Jaskier tilts his head in confusion, bringing his hand to pull yours away.   
“(Y/N) I get you love him and what not but you can’t trap him with that,” Jaskier points to your belly. “Witcher’s have no swimmers in their sacks.”

You grimace at his words, but shake your head. 

“I haven’t been with anyone apart from Geralt,” You sigh. “I don’t know how this has happened… But it has.” 

“A baby hm?” A voice interrupts the two of you, and your head turns quickly in its direction. Yennefer stands at her tent, eyebrow raised at the two of you. 

“I thought mages knew that eavesdropping was rude, but you seem the type.” Jaskier rolls his eyes at the witch, and she gives a low smile.

“It’s not eavesdropping Jaskier when you talk as loud as a giant,” Yennefer walks towards you, dropping down to your level as she eyes your stomach. “Well, you weren’t lying, there’s certainly a baby in there.”

“Why would I lie?” You cover yourself with your arms as the woman shrugs.

“You seem boring enough to conjure up some lie.”

You bite your lip to refrain from arguing back. As rude as she may be, she was still a powerful witch, and you were, well, you. 

“Is that jealousy I detect?” Jaskier, however, was Jaskier. 

Yennefer’s gives your friend a cold glare, but he stares her down. She huffs, before planting herself on the log on the other side of the fire.

“You really think Geralt is going to believe that,” She points to your stomach. “Is his? Honestly?”

“But it is his.” You wrap your hands around yourself, attempting to shield your body from the witches gaze. 

“He’s a Witcher (Y/N), are you sure you don’t want to pin this on another one of your suitors?” Her violet eyes glisten, a smug grin supporting.

“I’m sure you heard me before Yennefer, you know there isn’t any other man.” Why was she so being so cruel? 

“That baby didn’t show up on its own now did it?” She chuckles. “Human’s never stop amazing me.” 

“It’s Geralt’s baby you miserable toad,” Jaskier rolls his eyes in her direction. “You may be a fan of lying, but (Y/N) here is not.” 

“It’s not Geralt’s.” Yennefer stands her ground, before smiling at something behind you.

“What’s not mine?” Your blood runs cold at the familiar voice, and you feel yourself become significantly paler. 

“Y-Yennefer shall we go for a walk? I believe we should go for a lovely stroll and leave our two frien-”

“(Y/N) here has something to tell you.” Yennefer interrupts Jaskier as he stumbles over his words. 

“Hm?” You can feel his eyes on you, but you refuse to turn around. 

“Yennefer I think we can let (Y/N) decide for herself what she wants to do hm?” Jaskier gives your hand a tender squeeze, but it doesn’t nothing to stop your shaking. 

“What’s going on?” Geralt walks towards the fire, throwing some rabbit by Jaskier’s feet. The bard grimaces, and your mouth goes dry.

“Go on (Y/N).” The witch waves her hand around, urging you to continue. 

“Yennefer.” Your friend warns, but she ignores him. 

The two continue to bicker back and forth, Geralt standing in the middle, but his eyes are on you. Finally you stand, walking away from the trio as you attempt to calm your breathing. Footsteps follow you from behind, and judging by the way you can still hear Jaskier and Yennefer arguing, you know it’s Geralt. “Are you going to tell me what all of that is about?” His husky voice sends shivers down your spine, but you continue walking until you’re by the waters edge. 

“(Y/N)?” He stops by your side, staring down at you in confusion. 

“I’m pregnant.” You don’t look at him, instead keeping your gaze on the rushing water.

He’s quiet, until you hear him sigh. “Whose is it?” 

“Do you really have to ask me that?” 

“Do I know him?” He sounds disappointed, and you frown.

“Very well.”

“Jaskier?” He grunts, and you scrunch your nose in disgust.

“It’s yours Geralt.” You turn to look, and your eyes instantly water at his blank stare.

“Good joke.” 

“I’m not joking,” Your hand pats your stomach. “I’m carrying your child.”

“Have you been drinking?” Geralt’s tone turns harsh, and you gasp.

“Are you serious? I wouldn’t lie about something like this! You know me Geralt.”

“And you know me (Y/N)!” His eyes glow a little in anger, and you take a step back. “You know my kind can’t breed, what game are you playing?”

Tears fall from your eyes. “This isn’t a game! I love you Geralt, why would I want to hurt you like this?”

“Love me? When you carry another man’s child!” He yells back. “That’s not love.”

“It is yours! I have never been with anyone else,” You cried, wiping away the tears that fall. “When have I ever lied to you?”   
He doesn’t respond, but his breathing comes out rough as he attempts to collect himself. 

“Geral-”  
“Don’t,” He holds his finger up. “We’re done here.”

“What do you mean?” You whisper, walking towards him. 

He holds his hand up again, stopping you. “You need to stay away, before I say something I regret.”  
Your mouth opens to speak, but no words come out. Geralt walks away without hesitation, leaving you by the waters edge in tears. Sobs leave your throat, and you fall to your knees, cradling your stomach as you do.   
What were you supposed to do now? What could you do? 

Night began to fall, and Jaskier was by your side almost instantly. His arms surrounding you as you cried into his chest. You grasp at his shirt, and he pulls you close.  
“I know, I know,” He whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

You continue to cry, and his own eyes water at the site of his broken friend.   
You weren’t sure how long the two of you were sitting there for, but darkness surrounded you and you could hear the faint crackling of the fire back at your sight. Light conversation could be heard, and you rested your head on Jaskier’s chest as he gently caressed your arm.

“I’ll try talking to him,” He whispers. “I-I’ll try my best (Y/N), I’m-”

“Don’t bother Jaskier,” You sniff. “He thinks I have betrayed him.”

“But you haven’t, that witch is in his ear (Y/N) I swear.” 

“It doesn’t matter.” You shake your head, and he sighs. 

Jaskier helps you stand to your feet, brushing off any leaves that stuck to your clothing.   
“Do you want me t-”

“I have no choice but to go home, I cannot stay here.” 

“No, no, lets not be so rash here, you don’t have to leave.” His eyes are wide as he stares down at you, and you nod at him.

“I’m pregnant Jaskier,” The two of you begin walking back to your camp. “The road is no place for me.” 

“I’ve never been one for babies,” He slowly nods in agreement. “But I’m certain you know better than I.”

“You can always come to visit me, that is if we’re still friends after all of this.”

“What kind of uncle would I be if I didn’t?” Jaskier holds a hand over his heart. “An awful one for sure.”

You were going to miss this. Jaskier was your only friend, and now that you were going to be returning home, you were certain you would never see him again. His life was on the road, as was Geralt’s. By the time you made it back to the camp, both Geralt and Yennefer were nowhere to be seen. Roach was gone, but you knew they were going to return as their belongings were still present. 

“Want to sleep in my tent tonight?” Jaskier is already opening the door to his small little home when you nod. Usually you would be by Geralt’s side, but it was easy to avoid the inevitable unease over everyones new sleeping arrangements. 

“Are you hungry?” He asks, but you mumble a small no. “You should eat something (Y/N).”

“I’m afraid I’ve lost my appetite, I’d prefer to just go to bed if you’ll allow me.”

“You’re not just looking after yourself now.” Your friend gives you a pained glance but steps aside. 

“I know Jaskier,” You step inside, but turn around to look at your friend in the eyes. “I’ll eat plenty of breakfast with you in the morning, how does that sound?”

“Sounds like a deal, goodnight (Y/N).” He smiles, and you return it.  
Closing the tent flap, you make yourself comfortable on what you assume is your side of the ‘bed’.   
Gods, you’ve really done it now haven’t you?   
Sleep didn’t come quick, the anxiety of what was going to be your morning filling ever fibre of your being. But, sure enough, you closed your eyes and let the sound of the night lull you to sleep.

When you woke, the morning sun shined in your eyes. Keeping your eyes shut, your hands grasped at the sheets beneath you as you stretched. Almost instantly however they opened, your body freezing.

Sheets?

Sitting upright in bed, you noticed that you were no longer laying in the tent belonging to your best friend, but the bedroom from your old life. Your mattress felt the same as before, and you could hear your mother downstairs talking to one of your siblings.  
You pinched your leg, but your bedroom remained in site. How was this possible? You were thousands of miles from home just yesterday, and now you were here.  
Yennefer. 

No doubt the witch had played a large part in this. There were no bags, no notes. They had sent you home with just the clothes on your back.   
You had no proof whatsoever to the last eleven months of your journey. Well, that’s if you didn’t include a fucking baby.   
Like clockwork, tears began to fall from your eyes at the thought. The love of your life discarded you without a second thought, and you never got to say goodbye. Geralt believes he’s the one betrayed here, but now you were alone and pregnant with a Witcher’s child. 

Fate? Yeah, it had a real funny way of working.


	2. Part Two

Your mother, discovering you upstairs alive and well had cast you out onto the streets. It had brought shame to the family, knowing the eldest daughter ran away with a Witcher, but to return alone and with an unborn baby? Your mother had no hesitation in throwing you away.   
Perhaps it was better this way.   
Sure, you were homeless.  
And pregnant.  
With a Witcher’s child.

But everything happens for a reason. Days had passed and you were left to feed off scraps, struggling to find anything substantial. An elderly woman upon discovering you in her garden took you in, feeding you and clothing you in more suitable fabrics. It was two months into your pregnancy when she revealed that she was a mage, and that she knew the child you were carrying wasn’t normal. By the third month, she had told you that she was expecting your arrival long before you had joined Geralt, and had premonitions of your future. 

You were to find a girl and bring her to Geralt.  
Were you hearing things right?  
You thought Yennefer was mad, and now this? The mage was sympathetic, but ‘destiny was not something to ignore.’  
Destiny could go jump off a mountain. 

Seven months had passed since your beloved had abandoned you, seven long and painful months. Four of those months you had spent on the road looking for the lost princess, and as of three weeks ago, she found you. Or more so, ran into you.   
It took plenty of persuading, but soon Ciri believed that you were sent to help her find a certain Witcher. She became attached to you quite quickly, constantly asking about the baby and your past. You didn’t tell her that the very man you were looking for was the father, instead hoping you could pass Ciri into Geralt’s care without conversation.   
Destiny said you had to deliver the princess to Geralt, not that you had to talk to him.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. It would be impossible not too. You went from seeing him everyday to suddenly not at all, and your love for him was still more than evident. However, he still sent you away without hesitation, and that stung more than anything.  
There was no one left in your life except for Ciri and your unborn child, who Ciri had nicknamed pea-pod, much to your confusion. As much as you loved the princess already, you knew her destiny was to be with Geralt, and he could protect her far better than you ever could.  
It hurt already, knowing that even though you had the young girl in your life, she would be gone before you knew it, and you would be alone again.  
But she would be safe, and that’s all that mattered.

Exhausted was an understatement. The food supply had run out days ago, and you had given Ciri your last portion. She wasn’t aware, but it had been a week since you had eaten anything proper, and you blamed your exhaustion on the baby. She tried to help best she could, offering to hold all the bags as well as help you when you needed, but you declined her help. 

She needed to be safe and healthy, she was the biggest concern here.   
The two of you (well three) were driven into the swamps. There were bad people seeking your young companion, and there were no other places to run. Your cramping was becoming worse with every step, and you wondered just how long you could keep going before damage was done. You stumbled over a log, your hands coming to Ciri’s shoulder for support.

“We can stop if you need to (Y/N).” Ciri places her arms around you, careful to not bump your swollen belly. 

You shake your head, sweat beading at your forehead. “I’m fine, we need to keep moving.”

Ciri looks behind her, before looking back at you. “We lost them awhile back, no one is following us.”

You release a small grunt of pain, continuing to walk forward. “It’s not them I’m worried about.”

“What do you mean?” She’s by your side instantly, her eyes widening as you pull out a knife. “Why do you have that?”

“We’re in a swamp Ciri, we aren’t alone here.” 

“Are we safe?” She eyes begin to wander, scanning the surroundings.

“Never.” You take another step, groaning again as a cramp rips through your body.

“Is it the baby?” 

You huff. “I’m not sure, all I know is that we need to get out of here.”

She nods, and you both walk further into the swamp. Proper terrain had to be near, and when you began to hear birds you knew you were close.   
Having been on the road by yourself for so long had taught you a lot about the world, and whilst you were still mad, you were thankful that Geralt had taught you plenty as well.   
Hours had passed and you were certain that dry land was near, Ciri’s energy kept you going, Gods knew you had next to nothing left. The princess took all the bags half an hour ago, and you were more than thankful as you were running on fumes. 

The only object in your grasp was a large knife, your other hand holding your stomach.  
The swamp was alive with noise, and you’re already holding the knife in a defensive position when Ciri squeals at a small rodent running past. She holds her chest, breathing loudly as she collects herself. You both giggle at the action, and you shake your head at the young girl.   
It’s only when an influx of rodents begin running at your feet does your blood run cold. They’re all going in the opposite direction as you, and your eyes are wide as Ciri continues giggling. 

“Ciri,” You grab her arm. “Run!” 

She winces at your grasp, and you feel guilty. “What? Why?”

“Just run!” You push her behind you, and its then that a loud shriek echoes through the swamp. And then it all goes quiet, give or take the loud breathing coming from yourself and your companion as you run. 

Ciri is faster than you, and continues to turn around to check on you. You wave her off, and she screams loudly in return. You turn around, only to be taken down by a solid force. A scream is caught in your throat as you’re dragged into the water, and the only thing that comes out is a jagged ‘run!’.You’re submerged into the water completely as you struggle against the creature. Your arms waving through the murky liquid as you try to see your attacker.

A Drowner bites at your thigh, and you cry out as water fills your lungs. It’s slimy hands hold your legs, continuing to pull you further into the water. Your vision gets blurrier by the second, and the water gets more clouded as your bright blood mixes with the murkiness. You weakly reach for your blade.   
Your movements are limited, and you nearly drop the knife as the drowner bites at your thigh again. With as much energy as you can muster, you plunge the blade into the drowners head, silently praising yourself for carrying a silver weapon.   
The drowner goes limp, and just to be certain you twist the knife whilst its still lodged in the monsters brain. You let go of the hilt, pushing the creature off of your legs as you begin swimming to the surface.

Your lungs are screaming for air as you burst through the surface, and your hand is holding onto your thigh as you begin to swim over to the waters edge. Ciri is nowhere to be seen, and you send a quick prayer that she’s safe. Pulling yourself out of the water, you quickly check your surroundings for anymore drowners, knowing that they like to hunt in small groups. The coast was clear, and you don’t hesitate to rip the bottom of your dress into two sections to bind at your wounds.   
You bite your lip to stop yourself from screaming, pulling hard at the knots to stop the bleeding. Your breathing is laboured, and you don’t take a second to relax as you’re already attempting to stand.

A harsh cramp tears through your stomach as you clench your fists, choosing to keep going instead of waiting it through.  
You use a tree to help you stand, and you follow after Ciri’s footsteps when yet another cramp hits you. Gasping loudly at the feeling, your hands hold your large stomach as you wince with every step. Something wasn’t right, and you knew it was the baby. Not wanting to believe that they were contractions, you stubbornly continued, cursing to yourself. Your wet clothes clung to you like a second skin, and you shivered.  
The muddy ground began to dry as you followed Ciri’s tracks, and you new she must have found her way out of the swamp. She would have to be close, and it shouldn’t take long to catch up. 

That is if you can. 

Another contraction runs through your muscles, and this time liquid pools at your feet. You stare down at the puddle in shock, and you shake your head.  
“Not now,” You gasp, stumbling against a tree as the contraction continues. “Not now, please!”

The contraction is severe, and with the pain from your thighs combing with your muscles contracting, your legs give-away. Falling to the floor, you’re gasping for air as you attempt to sit upright against the tree. The pain is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced, and you know one way or another, the baby is coming.

And you were once again all alone.


	3. Chapter Three

Sometimes you cursed your good nature. Even in a time like this, with your underwear around your ankles, your head thrown back with screams tearing through your throat, pain spreading like wild fire to every nerve in your body, you still worried if Ciri had made it out of the swamp.   
Your wet dress stuck to your skin like glue, making your belly appear much larger as your chest rose with each shaky breath. Mud stuck to every inch of your skin, and you were just relieved you managed to pull your underwear down before another contraction had ripped through your muscles.   
Walking away from this was not an option anymore, the baby was coming and you cursed again at its early arrival. Were Witcher children different?

If you weren’t in such pain, you’d hit yourself for asking such a dumb question. There wasn’t anyone in the world who could answer your questions about baby Witcher’s. 

They didn’t exist.

But the life currently tearing through your insides said otherwise. 

Breathing did nothing to relieve the pain as you prepared for another contraction, and you spread your legs. You were alone in this, there was no one friendly around, and fear spiked in your chest at the idea of more threats coming for you in such a moment of weakness.   
You refused to cry, if you were going to be caught, you would do so with dignity, even if your foe would be greeted with a full view of your lower region. 

A strangled laugh left you at the thought, before it was replaced with another scream. Contraction number… Gods, you had lost count at this point.   
You felt the need to push, and you did so, your legs shaking as all you felt was an intense burning. The wounds on your leg still leaked with blood, and you panicked, knowing one way or another, blood loss was coming for you. 

You stopped pushing, and you groaned knowing you still had a long way to go. 

How long had you been doing this for now?

It had felt like an eternity. It became a struggle to find the energy to push, the strength to move, and you couldn’t help but wish he was here. But honestly at this point in time, you would accept the village idiot if it meant you weren’t alone. 

Speaking of Jaskier, your mind ventured to your friend, was he safe? Had he yet again laid with the another lords wife? 

You attempted to think of anything, hoping to distract yourself from the fire in your flesh. But to no avail, your breathing came out harshly and quickly as you prepared to push again. Sitting up right as quickly as you can, resting on your forearms, you bit your lips, hoping to drown out the noise you were about to emit.   
Pushing again, blood dripping down your chin as you bite too hard, and your hair covers your face as you stare down, eyes clenched in pain. A loud crunch to your right causes your eyes to open, and you’re already holding another dagger in your shaking grasp as you hold it in the direction of the sound.   
Another crunch is heard, followed by more as you tried to stay quiet. 

Why bother (Y/N)? You’ve already been screaming up a storm. 

A familiar head of hair comes around the corner, and your blinking over and over, surely hallucinating. Your grip on the blade doesn’t falter, but Ciri runs towards you with two hooded companions trailing behind. 

“You have to help my friend!” She turns around, almost pleading with the two.

“Ciri?” The knife falls from your hand, and she’s by your side instantly, one hand on your stomach as the other holds your cheek. 

“She’s pregnant?” One of the men asks, and your eyes widen at the familiar voice. 

Your vision goes blurry and your hair again falls in your gaze. 

Ciri holds you still, looking at the two standing. “You can help her right?” 

“I don’t know much about babies,” The same man says. “Geralt?” 

Your blood runs cold again. 

“Geralt?” You whisper, forcing yourself to raise your head. 

You surely would have been a sight. Blood and mud galore. 

But Geralt would know your eyes anywhere. 

“(Y/N)!” Jaskier screams, dropping all of his belongings as he dives by your side, Geralt staying stiff as his stares at your in disbelief. 

“She’s in labour!” Ciri yells at the man at your side, the young girl confused at the exchange in front of her. 

“What do we do!” Jaskier yells back at her, and if it weren’t for the child tearing through your lower region, you would laugh at the site. 

You go to speak, but a scream comes out instead as you try pushing again. 

The last thing you hear is your two friends screaming for Geralt, followed by a very scared ‘fuck.’ 

When you had come too, you were shocked to find yourself in a bedroom from a past time, no longer greeted with the muddy site of the swamp. You felt weak, as if all of your energy had been ripped from you. 

Your hands went straight to your stomach, it was still large, but you knew something was different.   
All the memories from before came to you at once. Ciri, followed by Jaskier, followed by Geralt. 

Geralt. 

Sitting up was a challenge, and it was then that you noticed you had been changed into an oversized shirt. It had a familiar scent, and if you weren’t eager to see your baby, you would have ripped the garment off of you.   
You had been using your legs more than ever, ever since you started your journey with Ciri. But now it was as if you had forgotten how to walk, your hands reaching out to support yourself on the bedside. 

Taking your time, wincing with each step as the bedroom door became closer and closer. It was slightly open, and you peered outside, seeing nothing. 

“Let me help you.” A voice from behind startles you, and if it weren’t for a pair of small arms wrapping around your frame, you would have surely fell. 

“It’s you,” You whisper, smiling at the familiar mage in front of you. “It’s really you.”

“It’s me my dove.” She pulls you in for an embrace. 

The only person to have helped you in the beginning of your pregnancy was here, and you felt instantly comforted knowing she had helped in the final moments too.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you,” She pulls away, resting a hand on your belly. “I knew you needed help.”

“You knew he’d find me.” You reply.

She nods. “Of course, I thought it would be a little earlier on but the fate works mysteriously.”

You cringe at the word fate, and she laughs. The mage helps you walk in the hallway, but you stop before you can enter another room.

She gives you a confused look, but you take a deep breath.

“I-Is my baby okay?” 

Your friend smiles again, her hand moving to rest on your cheek. 

“She’s perfect.” 

“She.” You reply, letting a smile take over. “I had a little girl.”

“Come now,” She pulls you along. “They’re waiting.” 

When you walk into the dinning area, you’re greeted with Jaskier and Ciri. The two in deep conversation. Geralt is nowhere to be seen, nor is your baby. 

“(Y/N)!” Ciri yells out, nearly tripping over her dress as she races towards you. 

Jaskier does the same, however tripping over nothing. 

The mage stretches out her hand, stopping the two from getting close. 

“The woman’s has just birthed a child,” She shakes her head. “Be gentle.” 

“I missed you so much (Y/N)! Gods you have no idea!” Jaskier reaches for your hand, squeezing it as a tear leaves his cheek. 

Ciri grabs the other. “Why didn’t you tell me that Geralt was the father?”

You sigh, squeezing both their hands. “We both have much to discuss, but if its alright with you two - I’d like to see my baby.”

They both nod. 

“Geralt has peapod outside.” Jaskier nods towards to door, and you frown at the nickname. 

“Peapod?” The mage questions, Jaskier pointing at Ciri as she chuckles. 

Letting go of your friends, you let your old companion know that you have it from here. She lets go, and you walk slowly to the front door. Your hands rest against the wooden frame, and you release a deep sigh as you push it open.   
The sunlight burns slightly, and your eyes wince. The garden you had spent so much time in during your time here stands tall, flowers and vines covering every ounce of land. You would have spent more time appreciating it, if it weren’t for the Witcher sitting in the centre of the yard.   
Geralt sits with his back to you, unknown to your presence. 

The grass tickles your bare feet, and the closer you get to the large man, the more you hear him whisper to the small bundle in his arms. He truly was unbeknownst to your small body standing behind him. When you walk into his line of sight, Geralt tenses, almost as if you were a threat, but his gaze softens as he lays his eyes on you. His free arm is instantly around your waist, helping you sit down on the bench by his side.

The two of you are quiet, but Geralt keeps his arm around you. You hold your arms out for your little girl, eyes watering as Geralt gently places her in your arms. She’s covered in a blanket, and you pull the fabric away from her head, tears finally falling down your cheek as you’re met with the familiar white hair of a Witcher. 

“Do you still think I’m lying?” You whisper, letting your fingers trace over the soft skin of your babies cheeks. 

“(Y/N)-“

“Honestly, fuck you Geralt.” You still don’t avert your gaze from the sleeping child.

“I k-“

“Fuck you, and fuck that stupid little witch of yours.”

He hangs his head in shame, nodding as you sigh. 

“I hate you, you know.” You look at him finally, and he stares back, sadness clouding his features.

“I deserve more than just your hatred.” He replies, and you nod. 

“You do, truly.” Your baby makes a small noise, and both you and Geralt melt at the sound. 

“If it weren’t for the fact that this little flower was in my hands right now, I would drive a dagger through your heart,” You sniff, another tear falling. “Maybe then you would feel something similar to what I have.” 

“It wasn’t my idea you know.” Geralt grabs your hand, squeezing it. 

“What wasn’t?” You try to pull away, but he pulls you closer to him.

“Yennefer cast you away in the middle of the night,” He closes his eyes, as if reliving the moment. “I woke that morning to Jaskier crying out for you.”

“You expect me to believe you played no part? After how you spoke to me?” That day pained you immensely. 

“You don’t have to believe me, but you’ll believe Jaskier. We searched for you for days until Yennefer came clean.” He clenches his jaw at the memory.

“Searched for me?” You repeated. 

“Everywhere we could, when we found out I n-near-“ He chokes on his own words.

“Nearly what?” 

“I nearly killed her, Yennefer. If it weren’t for Jaskier I would’ve cut her head clean from her neck. I sent her away, and we haven’t seen her since,” He confesses, your eyes widening at the revelation. “We both came to your village, but you were long gone.” 

“I was looking for Ciri.” You whispered, looking back at the house behind you.

“She told me about everything you know,” Geralt squeezes your hand again, before releasing you. “You found her, and you’ve protected her all this time.”

“I’m not the same person I once was.” You shrugged and Geralt scoffed, smiling at you. 

“The (Y/N) I remember would never threaten to shove a knife through my heart.” 

“Yes well,” You begin playing with the hair on your daughters head. “People change.”

“That they do.” Geralt reaches over, placing his hand over yours as it stills. 

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence as your baby stirs in her sleep, and you can’t help but rest your head on Geralt’s shoulder as you both stare at the life you created. 

“She’s beautiful.” Geralt mutters, almost in disbelief that he took part in creating such a small being. 

“She has your hair,” You reply. “Does she have my eyes?”

“No, actually she has my eyes,” You groan at that, staring up at the large man. 

“Really? So I carry her for so long just for her to come out looking like you?” Scoffing, you silently curse at the maker. 

“She has your nose,” Geralt lightly taps her nose. “And your ears.”

“Lucky for her, your ears are huge.”

It was Geralt’s turn to scoff, and you revelled in the old feeling between you two. 

“I missed you (Y/N), and I know that no matter what I do or say that I cannot take back everything I did that day by the bank.” 

You open your mouth to reply, but he continues. 

“But I love you,” Geralt reaches for your cheek, making you stare up at him. “I never stopped loving you, and I regret with everything I have for not finding you sooner. For not being there for you or our little one. For not believing you.”

“I love you too,” You close your eyes as more tears fall. “But it will take some time for me to trust you again, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s more than I deserve,” He whispers, resting his forehead against yours. “I have somewhere safe for us to go, somewhere we can raise our little one, that’s if you’ll still have me by your side.”

“If you believe its safe,” You hear loud laughing coming from inside the house, and you smile. “Will Ciri be safe there too?”

“She will.”

“Then we’ll go.” Geralt sighs in relief, and again your baby makes a small mewling noise. 

“What will we call her?” You ask, staring at Geralt as he raises his eyebrows. 

“Anything but Peapod, whatever that’s about.”

You chuckle, Geralt copying you. 

Staring around at the garden around you, the lightest flower you see blows in the wind, and you can’t help but notice it was one of the first bunches you had planted during your stay here. 

“How about Emeria?” You mumble, keeping your gaze on the flowers. 

Geralt follows your gaze, nodding as his eyes land on the flourishing flowers.

“Emeria.”

You bring your baby in between the two of you, Geralt’s arm reaching around your shoulder as he pulls you closer.   
Your friends stare from the window, Jaskier smiling at his small reunited family. 

The mage shakes her head at the pair, smiling as Ciri walks over to her spot by the fire. 

“I wanted to thank you for everything you have done Ms…” Her voice trails off, and the woman chuckles. 

“Your kind call me witch, but Destiny is fine.”


	4. Bonus Geralt's POV

“Geralt?” The woman whispers. 

What the fuck. There was no plausible way in hell this woman was (Y/N).   
She would be elsewhere, warm and safe. 

“(Y/N)?” Jaskier screams, dropping all of his belongings as he dives by the pregnant woman’s side.   
How is this possible? 

“She’s in labour!” Ciri yells at Jaskier, the young girl trembling with fear. 

I felt frozen. It had been months since I had laid eyes on the woman I loved. Even in her mud soaked glory, she still looked beautiful. It was as if a witch had cast a spell on me, my chest felt tight, my mind felt clouded. 

“What do we do!” Jaskier retorts. 

(Y/N)’s chest rises, her body shaking as her hands squeeze the pair at her side. Her mouth opens, a scream erupting from her throat as her feet dig into the mud beneath her.   
Do something you fool!

As quickly as she screams, (Y/N) suddenly stops, her body collapsing into a heap. 

“Geralt!” Both Jaskier and Ciri yell, turning their heads in my direction.

“Fuck.”

“Help her you oversized oaf!” Jaskier is pointing at her unconscious state as Ciri pushes the hair from her eyes.

I don’t hesitate, shaking off the frozen grip that took its hold on me. Jaskier moves away as I step towards the trio, his mouth agape as he watches the scene unfold. I remove my coat, throwing it over (Y/N)’s small frame. 

She looked so frail, her hair soaked with what looks like swamp water. “Jaskier, grab your things.” (Y/N) feels light in my arms, and I’m careful to avoid her wounds. “Ciri, hold onto (Y/N)’s.”

Ciri’s eyes widen at my words, her hands fumbling for the small rucksack. “H-How do you know her?” 

We keep a fast pace towards the nearest town. (Y/N) releases a small cry, and my hands tighten slightly in an attempt to hold her closer.

Jaskier groans as he attempts to keep up. Huffing as he points towards the woman in my arms. “(Y/N) is Geralt’s wife.” 

“Wife?” Ciri and I speak at the same time. 

“She’s not my wife.”

(Y/N) stirs again, and my frown deepens.

“Oh sod off Geralt, she’s the closest thing to it.” He rolls his eyes. We continue walking further along the track, attempting to stay as quiet as possible.

“I’ve been with (Y/N) for some time now,” Ciri stays by my side, occasionally peering down at (Y/N) in worry. “She never spoke about you like that.”

I stare down as well. “She spoke of me?”

“Not often, she was sent to help me find you.” 

Both Jaskier and I turn to the small girl in confusion. “By who?” 

“By me.” A voice calls out, and we all turn in unison at the sound. If it weren’t for the unconscious woman in my arms, I would’ve reached for my sword. An older woman stands by a tree, her hands clasped together. 

“We really don’t have time for this right now,’ Jaskier scolds the stranger. “Be on your w-“

“Shush you, (Y/N) will not survive the birth unless you have my help.” She interrupts him, the pair by my side releasing a small gasp at the information. 

“Who are you?” I ask, my voice coming out rougher than intended.

The woman tuts. “Watch your tone Witcher, I’m a friend.”

“You’re a witch.” I retort, and she shrugs.

“You said it yourself that you don’t have time for chatter,” The woman waves her hand, a portal appearing behind her. “(Y/N) needs help, you won’t find it anywhere else.”   
The portal morphs, and a distorted view of a cottage appears. My jaw clenches, and the witch stares us down.

“Well?” She holds her hand out in Ciri’s direction. “I didn’t send (Y/N) all this way just to kill you the moment you found him now did I.”

Ciri moves towards her slowly, Jaskier attempting to hold her back. “She spoke about you! You took her in, looked after her.”

The woman nods. “I did, now I would hurry if I were you, a Witcher child isn’t easy to bear.”  
A Witcher child.

Ciri is already entering the portal before I could say anything, Jaskier gasping as does so.

“Geralt!” He turns around, looking at me in confusion.

“Go,” I nod towards the portal, seeing Ciri on the other side. “Go Jaskier, now.”

The witch stands by the entrance, waiting for the bard to enter. Jaskier attempts to look into it first, turning around to talk.

“Is this sa-“

The witch pushes him in, rolling her eyes at the action. “Honestly, we really don’t have time for dawdling.”

“Hm.”

(Y/N) groans out loud, her body shivering as the breeze picks up.. I walk towards the portal, seeing Ciri as she helps pick up Jaskier off the ground. Warmth surrounds us, and my vision goes blurry as I enter the portal.

“-hat witch kicked me Geralt! She kicked me!”

It was my turn to roll my eyes. Jaskier sits on the steps of the cottage, Ciri at his side. “Get the door open.”

Ciri rushes to the front door to open it, but it opens before she could. The witch is already inside, and she’s pointing towards a hallway. “Take her to the bedroom on the right, I’ll take it from there.”

“I’m not leaving her with you alone.” I grunt, making my way to the room.

“She‘s survived this long on her own since you abandoned her,” She retorts, following me down the hallway. “I’m sure she’ll survive another few hours without you.”

“I didn’t abandon her.”

“She thinks differently.” She mumbles before pointing at the bed centre in the room.

I place (Y/N) down as gently as I can, letting my hand touch her swollen stomach as I slowly pull away. She releases a heavy sigh, eyes squeezing even more in pain (if that was possible).

“You can wait with the others, I have it from here Witcher.” The mage waves me off, and I frown at her, shaking my head.

“I’m not leaving.”

“I will force you out if I have too,” She gives me a blank stare. “Don’t make me.”

She stares me down, as if waiting for me to make a choice. I raise my hands in defence, nodding in defeat.

“I’ll go, but if you hurt he-“

“You’ve hurt her more than I ever could.” She cuts me off, and I narrow my eyes.

“I’ll accept that.” I mutter, making my way out. I turn my head, taking one last glance at the two women in the room.

A force pushes me out, the door shutting behind me. “Fucking witches.”

Another force pushes me against the wall, and I grunt at the feeling.

“I heard that.”

I grunt at the mages voice through the walls, following the hallway back down to the two waiting for me.

“Well? Is everything okay?” Jaskier greets me, Ciri nodding along with him.

“The mage has it from here.” I sit on a free stool, sighing out loud as anxiety seeps through my chest.

“That’s it? We’re leaving her in there with her?” Jaskier scoffs, pointing down the hall. “Alone?”

“I don’t have much of a fucking choice now do I.” I bark, immediately regretting it as Ciri flinches.

“This woman helped (Y/N) in the beginning of her pregnancy,” Ciri spoke up, a small smile on her face. “She’s safe.”

“How do you know this is her? For certain?” I reply, her words not helping with my unease.

“(Y/N) spoke of the garden, how she planted so many flowers and put a bench in the centre,” She points to a window. “It’s exactly as she described.”

“Hm.”

“So we’re going to let our friend, the mother of your child,” Jaskier points at me, confusion riddling his face. “Alone with a witch because of a bench? Really?”

“What do you both have against witches?” Ciri mutters, looking between the both of us.

“Oh you know, just extreme hatred and utter loathing because of a certain black haired bi-“

“Jaskier,” I cut him off, giving him a glare, “Enough.”

“Apologies dear princess,” He releases a loud sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She who shall not be named has ruined any good feeling I have towards witches.”

Ciri looks confused, but nods nonetheless. She goes to speak again when a shrill scream tears through the air, the three of us all standing to attention. The screaming continues, and I have to fight the urge to storm the hallway and break the door down.

“(Y/N) is tough,” Jaskier closes his eyes as the screaming continues. “Toughest woman in the world.”

“You saw those creatures in the swamp, she killed them herself,” Ciri nodded in agreement, grimacing as the screaming abruptly stops. “Even with a belly as big as the moon.”

“Now I know a lot of women, and I mean a lot.”

“Shut up.” I grunt at the bard, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m just saying! She was brave before this, I mean who would want to spend their time with you,” He waves at me. “Knowing how much of an arrogant, no good, ug-“

“Why didn’t (Y/N) tell me you were the father?” Ciri cuts him off. “I’ve been with her for a few weeks, and she never mentioned it.”

“A few weeks? How long was she looking for you for?” I reply, my full attention on the princess.

“Four months, she spent her time here before going on the road.”

I nod, urging her to continue.

“She told me she was sent to help me find you, I can’t say I thought my guardian would be a pregnant woman, but I’d be dead if it weren’t for her,” Her eyes wonder, as if in deep thought. “She killed to protect me, in her state. It was as if she had all of this strength come in waves, it was extraordinary.”

“Maybe the baby gave her aid, you know, Witcher babies and all that.” Jaskier wiggles his fingers at the mention of Witcher.

“I didn’t think Witcher’s could have children?” Ciri asks, and I close my eyes in frustration.

As if on cue, another scream echoes through the hall. Jaskier grimaces at the sound. “There’s your answer to that.”

The screaming never falters, and the three of us all keep our eyes down as (Y/N) cries out. Minutes pass, and the piercing sound stops abruptly, and my head sharply turns to the hallway.

A babies cry fills the air, loud and full. And I can’t help the way my heart begins to thud over and over.

“What is it?” Jaskier asks, looking at me.

“The baby,” I say in shock. “They’re here.”

“I can’t hear anything.” Ciri replies, and I grip the counter near me.

“Witcher hearing Ciri, you’ll get use to it.” Jaskier stares down at the princess, who just replies with a small ‘right.’

The door opens, and I’m already walking down the hallway when the mage steps out. She gives me a smile before staring down at the wrapped bundle in her blood covered hands.

“Congratulations Witcher,” She gently reaches out. “She looks just like you.”

She. A little girl.

She looks just like you.

My mouth opens to speak, but no words come out. I instead hold my hands out, and the mage places my child in my grasp.  
My child.

“Can I,” I clear my throat. “Can I see (Y/N)?”

She shakes her head. “No, I need some time to tend to her, I will leave you with the little one for now.” I nod, and she steps back into the room, the door shutting behind her.  
The baby in my hands moves slightly, and my hands shake as I hold her close to me, moving the blanket away from her face. Her hair is the first thing I notice, but as if one cue the baby opens her eyes, and I’m met with the similar golden glow of my own.

White hair. Gold eyes.

Gods, I am a fool.

She had (Y/N)‘s little button nose and ears, but there was no denying she had more features of mine than anything.  
Witcher’s always have prominent features, I guess the babies would too. There wasn’t exactly a book to read on such a situation, no instructions, not even Vesemir himself would know what to do from here.

Deep down I always knew (Y/N) wasn’t lying. She never lied, and she certainly wasn’t the type to cheat. But it was hard to suddenly believe something that had been installed in your head from such an early age.  
If Yennefer hadn’t cast (Y/N) away, I would’ve taken her to Kaer Morhen, where she would’ve been safe. When she told me she was pregnant, I couldn’t believe it. I just needed time to think it all over, but Yennefer got in my head.

Fucking witch.

I wish I had severed her head from her shoulders the first chance I got, but Jaskier being his usual self got in the way. She sent (Y/N) away. She sent her off like she was last nights dinner. (Y/N) never knew that I searched for her, that Jaskier and I returned to her town to look for her to no avail.

The baby releases a small noise, and my stomach drops at the sound. Such a delicate being, so immune to the world. I helped make something so pure.  
“Can we see pea pod?” Ciri says from behind me, and I straighten up, once again clearing my throat. I turn around, greeted by both companions.

“What is it?” Jaskiers eyes widen as he stares down at the newborn, Ciri giving him a glare.

“It is a she.” She corrects him, before looking back at me. “Right?”

I nod, and she smiles, turning her attention back to the baby. “She’s so small.”

“She has your hair Geralt,” Jaskier points out, and I merely nod again. “Do you believe (Y/N) now? Or do you need more proof?”

“She has my eyes too.” I mutter, choosing to ignore the bards harsh tone.

“Oh even better, no denying she’s yours then.”

I just sigh, walking past the two as I make my way to the front door. “(Y/N) is being attended to by the witch.”

“Where are you going?” The two ask simultaneously, and I open the front door with my free hand.

“I’ll be in the garden.”


End file.
